


Girl Crush

by FinalMoondragon



Category: Roswell (TV 1999)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Longing, Unrequited Love, polar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 09:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21074120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinalMoondragon/pseuds/FinalMoondragon
Summary: Liz wonders what Maria has that she doesn’t, why can’t Michael want her instead? Song fic, based on Girl Crush by Little Big Town. One shot.





	Girl Crush

**Author's Note:**

> This is my original One Shot for this. However I decided I wanted to see what happened next so I’ve got a series started based on this story - it’s called “Until You’re Mine”. Hope you guys enjoy, please R&R! ❤️ Comments make my day!

**Girl Crush******

** **** **

_I got a girl crush_  
_Hate to admit it but, I get a heart rush_  
_It ain’t slowing down…_

_ __ _

_ _ __ _ _

The door chimed, and Liz Parker glanced up from putting the freshly refilled sugar containers under the counter, automatically smiling as her best friend swept into the empty restaurant – Hurricane DeLuca had arrived, Michael Guerin in tow. Maria was a force of nature, unable to make a discreet entrance, when she arrived, everyone knew it. Tonight, she was wearing a lime green mini skirt, and a glittery silver halter top, her long blonde hair cascaded down her back. Knee high white boots completed her ensemble. On anyone else it would have looked tacky. On Maria it looked incredible.  


“Please, please, no paparazzi.” Maria announced as she surged through the empty dining room, only pausing to do a quick twirl and hair flip for Liz, before kissing each of her cheeks and sweeping off towards the back room. “Only stopping in! I forgot my purse this morning!” She vanished through the back door with a flash of a dazzling grin, leaving Liz to stare after her. As usual she hadn’t even given Liz a chance to speak.  


“She’s a little wound up.” Michael commented, sliding into a chair at the bar, drawing Liz’s attention. His arms rested on the counter and he leaned towards her with a half amused, half exasperated smile. Her chocolate eyes melded with his caramel irises, and she managed a smile that felt more like stuttered words. He had clearly been persuaded into dressing up for their outing. Black jeans, and a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. God, why did he have to look so damn good all the time? Of ’course she preferred the real Michael – torn jeans, t-shirt, possibly covered in motorcycle grease. However, she had to admit that he cleaned up nice.  


“When isn’t she?” Liz chuckled, looking for a distraction. She snatched a mostly dry rag off the sink rim and began wiping the already clean bar. “You guys look nice. Going somewhere special?” She asked nonchalantly. When she received no immediate response, she chanced a look at him.  


Michael was watching her with a raised eyebrow, “You’re making the counter dirty you know.”  


Liz blushed, her brain scrambling for a plausible response. Instead she found herself licking her lips as her eyes betrayed her and darted to the curve of his mouth as he smirked at her across the bar. How the hell had Maria gotten so lucky?

_I got it real bad_  
_want everything she has_  
_That smile and that midnight laugh_  
_She’s giving you now_

“Found it!” Maria announced, popping the door open so suddenly that Liz dropped the rag on the floor. She darted a guilty look at her best friend, but as usual, Maria was oblivious. She had zeroed in on Michael, and she waved her hand dramatically in the air, silver bracelets jangling. “Michael! Why are you sitting? We’re going to be late!”  


Michael groaned, and cast a look at Liz before grudgingly standing up. Maria wrapped herself around him, smiling widely as she gazed into his eyes. She planted a kiss on him before turning to wave at Liz.  


Liz somehow managed to keep her smile intact, even though her chest constricted at the sight. She thought it was a crush. She’d buried it for years, but it was getting harder and harder to ignore. It was getting painful to hide. She forced a laugh, as if to say, “Oh, typical Maria.” But she couldn’t trust herself to actually speak. Michael caught her eye, giving her a strange look. Oh God, had he seen something in her expression? Heard the brittleness of her laughter? She shifted her gaze back to Maria lest he suspect anything.  


“Don’t wait up! We’ll be late!” She blew Liz a kiss before dragging Michael out into the night, her laughter carrying back inside over the sound of tinkling bells.  


“See ya, Parker.” Michael said, waving over his shoulder.  


“Have fun!” Liz called after them, too late. Ignoring the sinking feeling in her chest, Liz picked up the dirty rag and threw it back into the sink before reaching for a clean one. Michael had been right. She’d messed up her clean bar. 

_I want to taste her lips_  
_Yeah, 'cause they taste like you_  
_I want to drown myself_  
_In a bottle of her perfume_  
_I want her long blonde hair_  
_I want her magic touch_  
_Yeah, 'cause maybe then_  
_You'd want me just as much_  
_I got a girl crush_  
_I got a girl crush_

Liz scrubbed the bar until it shone. Then she stacked all the chairs on the table tops, leaving the floor clear for mopping in the morning. Every so often she caught a whiff of Maria’s perfume, still hanging in the air. She wondered if Michael liked the overpowering, flowery scent, or if he tolerated it because he had no choice.  


She thought of the way Maria had wrapped herself around Michael, ordering him around, taking every kiss for granted. She slammed one of the chairs down onto the table much harder than she intended, and the sound made her flinch. She shook her head, trying to calm down and be rational. It wasn’t any of her business what Maria and Michael did in their relationship. It didn’t matter if Michael liked Maria’s perfume or not. It wasn’t her business. 

Liz looked around for something else to do, determined to stay busy. Her shoulders sagged when she realized the restaurant was clean. She had already done everything, and the kitchen was long since cleaned and closed down. She was the only person left in the building, save for her parents upstairs. “Damn.”  


She had nothing left to do but go home to the apartment she and Maria rented together. Not that Maria was there very often – she tended to sleepover at Michaels’ more often than not. Liz groaned. She wasn’t going to think about them! 

_I don’t get no sleep, I don’t get no peace_  
_Thinkin’ about her under your bed sheets_  
_The way that she’s whisperin’, the way that she’s pullin’ you in_  
_Lord knows I’ve tried, I can’t get her off my mind_

Liz laid in bed and stared at the lines of shadows and light shifting across her ceiling. Headlights from her open window. Each time she halfway hoped it was Michael’s motorcycle, returning Maria to her empty, disheveled bed in the room on the other side of the small living room. But each time, the lights faded, and the room was plunged into darkness once more. She didn’t know why she bothered pretending one of them was his bike. She would hear it from blocks away, the roar making her heart race as if she were riding on the back of it, wrapped around his body, breathing in the leather of his jacket. She knew they weren’t coming back any time soon.  


They were probably holed up in his apartment by now. Buried under his sheets, whispering and touching, reveling in each other. And where was she? Alone in bed, imagining it.  


Disgusted, Liz flopped over on her side and stared at the pale green digits of her alarm clock. 2:18AM. She’d been lying awake for almost 3 hours. She wished she could say it was a one-time occurrence. She wished it was just a fluke, not being able to sleep. Only she knew better. Every night that Maria went out with him, Liz lay awake. Praying that they would decide to cut their evening short, praying for them to break up, as awful as it made her feel to wish against her best friends’ happiness. She lay awake every night, as her imagination ran wild, playing out every scenario possible, wondering and dreading what they were doing at that very moment.  


Honestly, what did Maria have that she didn’t? What could Maria give him that she couldn’t? Was it her smile and laugh? Her blonde hair, and wild, uncontrollable nature? Was it her perfume, lingering in the air, reminding him to think of her long after she had gone? What was it? 

_I wanna taste her lips, yeah, ‘cause they taste like you_  
_I wanna drown myself in a bottle of her perfume_  
_I want her long blonde hair, I want her magic touch_  
_Yeah, ‘cause maybe then you’d want me just as much_  
_I got a girl crush_

Maria didn’t return during the night, or even before her shift in the morning. Liz left without her, walking the 2 blocks to the Crashdown diner, arms folded over her chest because she had forgotten her jacket. The sun was only just barely up, and the desert air was still cool and breezy. She was across the street from the diner when she heard it. Her heart stopped and then leapt into double time as she looked for the motorcycle.  


The engine broke the stillness of morning as he roared down the center of the street, heedless of the yellow lines. His leather jacket was open, revealing a white t-shirt beneath. The wind tousled his dirty blond hair – and she could see Maria wrapped around him, wearing his helmet. His black motorcycle boots touched the pavement as he came to a halt by the front door and let Maria slide a bit ungracefully off the side. She took off her borrowed helmet and leaned over the bike to kiss him before hooking the helmet strap over the handlebar and dashing inside.  


Liz continued to stand on the sidewalk, simply watching the scene unfold, nearly identical to a dozen other mornings. She fantasized that he’d call her name then, and she would run to him, climb on the back of his bike, and they would run off together. Forget Maria. Forget the Crashdown. Forget Roswell. Just run.  


“You sleep walking, Parker?” Michaels’ voice snapped her out of her daydream. Shit. How long had she been staring at him? Had he noticed? Of ‘course he had noticed! He had talked to her.  


“Um, sorry. I didn’t sleep well. Little spacy this morning.” She tried for a light laugh as she crossed the street and approached his idling bike. Unwittingly, her gaze slid over his body, taking in his messy hair, whiskey eyes, and sardonic smirk. She chewed her bottom lip and tucked a flyaway hair behind her ear. He leaned back on the leather seat, dropping one hand onto his thigh as he looked at her. His jacket fell open to reveal a rumpled white undershirt; his faded jeans were smudged with old grease stains and dotted with rips and tears. His boot hit the kick stand.  


“You don’t get enough of space with all the alien shit?” He joked and then asked more seriously, “Something on your mind?” His head tilted slightly, concern in his whiskey eyes. Oh, how she wished it was something else. If only he would look at her right now like he did in her dreams.  


She smiled, and hoped he couldn’t see past it as her chest tightened. “Nothing new.” Every fiber of her being screamed at her to tell him. The pain in her heart begged her to confess everything, begged her to beg him. Please love me. Please let me take her place. Please want me as much as you want her.  


“You sure?” He asked, holding out the helmet, “You could blow off work and go for a ride, get out of your head for once.”  


Internally she let out a sob, desperate to say yes. Her gaze flickered to the windows behind him – heavily decorated with Aliens and Spacecraft – and saw Maria behind the counter, making coffee. Her head bobbed in time to whatever music was spilling from the kitchen, making her alien antenna headband bounce and wave sporadically. Did she dare?  


Michael pressed the helmet into her hands, drawing her attention back to him. His eyes locked with hers. “You coming? Trade in the fake aliens for a real one?”  


Heart racing, dizzy from the rush, she nodded before she could talk herself out of it. She jammed the helmet on and snapped it under her chin. Michael grinned, and hit the kickstand as she slid onto the seat behind him and snaked her arms around his waist, pressing against his body and breathing in the scent of leather. Just this once, she promised herself. Just this once, she’d pretend she could have what Maria had.  


With a growl, the bike shot into the street, picking up speed as they headed for open desert. 

_I gotta girl crush, hate to admit it but_  
_I gotta heart rush, it ain’t slowin’ down_


End file.
